Green Love
by Anya-Paradox
Summary: There are ten things that flash through Castiel's mind before he says goodbye to Dean in purgatory. Destiel. Spoilers 8x7.


**Green Love**

Summary: There are ten things that flash through Castiel's mind before he says goodbye to Dean in purgatory.

A/N: Quick note, it's late and this is unedited, but I couldn't help myself. It's a little sad, sorry. I warn you, the timeline jumps around, but hopefully I made it clear enough to understand. Spoilers up to 8x7. Enjoy and review.

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1. _I am not a hammer._

Castiel has always liked grass. In Heaven he had relished the feel of it under his toes as he watched kites flying. On Earth, he had spent time hours staring at the alien green color, wishing he could lie upon it and rest there, prickles stabbing his skin in the most pleasant of ways. He wishes that he had spent time pulling it up by it's roots, smelling the dirt and the freshness, watching the silly humans as they trim it to optimal aesthetically pleasing height; why do they do this? Do they not know it will just grow back?

Castiel should have asked Dean, that day in the park. They were surrounded by it; grass, sky, sand, children, life. All of it still sitting there because of Dean. Castiel should have questioned him about everything, every ridiculous human idiosyncrasy that he had absolutely no interest in at the time.

But that was just it -he had no interest. He had eternity stretched out ahead of him; immortality, power, and all the knowledge he would ever need. So why would he need to know anything about a defenseless, useless human. Anything Castiel needed to know about grass he would find out from the armies of heaven, and the power of his Father.

Dean Winchester was only a human, gone in the blink of an angel's existence.

Still, Castiel was grateful he had saved the town.

2. _You do not think you deserve to be saved?_

Hot, hot everywhere. Burning, scorching pain. Souls screaming in agony, and Castiel wants to go home, wants cool grass on his feet, and wings wrapped around him in the skies. He cannot.

He has a mission, and he is God's soldier, and he will not fail Him.

The man stands in front of him, bloody and broken. His knife has become an extension of his arm, the same arm that used to bear his heart on it. Castiel cannot see what it is that is so special about this man; he cannot see why he _deserves_ to be saved.

His hand snatches at his shoulder, ready to drag this pitiful citizen to the surface whether or not he comes kicking and screaming.

Castiel does not need to drag him out; the Righteous Man clings to him, buries himself deep within his soul and his grace. There is light, and laughter, and so much regret; angels do not feel regret.

There is a small boy with adoration on his face, and a woman with a sandwich -crusts cut off- on a plastic plate. There are fireworks, motel rooms, a necklace, and catch with an older man. There is anger, and hatred, and sin. There is love, and beauty, and everything Castiel has only observed and never understood.

There is Dean Winchester. There is the Righteous Man. So much more than that: there is a person, a soul, a being, and he _deserves this. _Castiel cannot understand the rush of relief he feels, knowing that he is the one to save this man.

He has a mission, and he is Dean's protector, and he will not fail him.

3. _I liked past you._

The only goddamned thing in this whole godforsaken shit hole of a planet that was worth living for anymore was sex. Or drugs. Or alcohol. Usually the combination of the three was good, along with green eyes, green like grass.

He used to have more to live for. He used to have eternity to live for, and a million things that made that existence worth it.

It used to be battles. It used to be flying. It used to be Dean Winchester.

Well fuck. Some things never change.

_4. I serve heaven, I don't serve man, and I certainly don't serve you._

The words burned his mouth, and Castiel wondered how a sentence that was almost completely true could feel absolutely so false. He did not enjoy lying, and he didn't understand why he was doing so now. Of course, it wasn't completely a lie. Castiel loved his Father, and he served Heaven and God devoutly. However, he would lay down his life for Dean. He would value his life above all others, and that was the worst possible thing Castiel could do. All human life was valued in the eyes of God. Every human was loved equally; no single individual deserved more than that.

Dean was worth more.

5. _I'm sorry, Dean_.

Water was nice. It was placid and relaxing. The opposite of Hell, which had possibly been the worst field trip he had ever been on. Water reminded him of Jimmy's eyes, his own eyes now. Water was blue, and quiet, and reliable.

Water took him in when there was nothing else but pain and regret and anger.

It lapped him up and swallowed him down and he sat upon the murky river bed in anguish. Water weighed in on him, oppressed him, made him feel powerless and insignificant, the way he was meant to.

The water was beautiful, and necessary. Castiel couldn't bear to think of grass now, not when blue was all around him, and betrayal was a part of his psyche; his blood sang with it, guilt heavy in his veins. Grass was welcoming, warm; hot summer days with road trips and laughter. Grass was green, green like eyes, green set on tanned skin with freckles.

Green like home; green like love.

He deserved water.

6. _You have no faith._

Castiel had never known that he could have faith in something other than God, but he does; faith blooms in him the instant he touches his soul in Hell.

This man is salvation: this man is everything.

So why does he have no faith in himself?

7. _You remembered the way you needed to._

Dean believed that he had failed him. He thought he had left Cas behind, and abandoned him. Castiel wished he could pull him close and ease this worry from his mind; plead with his body in a way he never could with words. Dean would understand that better anyway, he always had.

Still, Castiel could show him. It would cost him in this weakened state. There was no set timeline on how long angels take to fall.

Castiel would show him that he had been stronger, that he had told Dean to go because he deserved to be saved. Castiel deserved the right to make this choice. He had fought for free will, fought with the Winchesters and against Heaven. He had the choice to let Dean go, to save him.

Dean would always deserve to be saved, and Castiel would watch the world burn before he did anything different. Dean was worth more, Dean meant more; he meant freedom, road trips, pie, and laughter.

Dean was worth his wings.

8. _What happened to you, Cas?_

Life. Another lie. By this time he's used to them. Holes stabbing into his veins, and alcohol a permanent part of his chemical make up. He had forgotten how Dean used to be, before he was constantly disappointed by Castiel's fall, and beaten down by the state of the world. Forgotten what the brother looked like when Sammy hadn't betrayed him.

He should have said _you_. He would have, if it hadn't been green eyes the color of innocence staring at him. He would have said it if it had been Dean from the future, the Dean that he knew more intimately than any other version, but liked less.

He couldn't stand to ruin Dean twice.

9. _I need you._

He hadn't thought they were real, climbing over the ridge. It was almost lucky Dean had brought the vampire, otherwise Castiel would have never believed it to be reality.

Fury, first. There was anger, and rage, and _how dare he look for me_. Castiel had been running, and fighting, and doing everything in his power to keep the battles away from Dean. Why would he look for him?

Then -oh. Oh, arms. Warmth, the first Castiel had felt since he had been on earth. Arms were wrapped around him, and Dean was smiling.

Castiel had thought Dean had forgotten how to smile.

He clenched his fists. He would _not_ return the embrace. He was an angel, he was a betrayer, he was family that had destroyed _everything_, and he did not deserve to be hugged. He did not deserve the affection that Dean bestowed on him.

But those words. Those words, with the power to change everything. Castiel wanted to shout them back, wanted to scream them to Leviathan, wanted all of Heaven to know that he was falling, falling, falling...

It was all okay though, because Dean knew how to smile, and he held him, and he _needed_ him.

Castiel needed Dean too, and he would take every second of him for as long as he could have him. It was selfish, and stupid, and put Dean in danger every second Cas spent hanging around him.

Selfish and stupid he could do. He wasn't completely an angel anymore, and he was completely okay with doing things for petty reasons. So he would go to the portal with Dean and the vampire. He would continue this farce about getting out of Purgatory and back on earth.

It would be a lie. Castiel didn't deserve to get out of Purgatory. He deserved all of this and more.

Castiel would lie to Dean, because he had once been told that humans lie to get what they want.

If Castiel was human enough to want Dean, he was human enough to lie for it.

10. _Thank you, for everything._

Goodbye my friend.

Goodbye to warmth in huddled bodies, and protection by knives.

Goodbye to the discovery of forgiveness, regret, sanity.

Goodbye to love, and the first taste of what forever really means.

Goodbye to green eyes, and grass, and Sam.

Goodbye.

11. _You can't save everyone, my friend._

Dean saved him. Remember that. Even if a time comes when there are empty bottles, women, and drugs surrounding the angel, and salvation seems distant and empty. Remember Castiel, an angel of the Lord, chose this. Chose Dean.

It would always be the right choice.


End file.
